Author's Note/Greeting:
Well hello, everyone!
This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)
As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.
It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.
So please read and review, because I want to know what you think about the story, the characters, the society or anything at all. I'll be so happy to answer any question that comes to your mind, too, so feel free to ask. And if you don't like the story, or my grammar sucks too much, that's fine too, we are different and like different things. Just please be gentle on me, because this is really my first publish.
Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!
PROLOGUE
Gilraen looked up at Arathorn in stress.
"Do you think she'll wake up?" she asked her husband wringing her hands worriedly.
"She's not dead, so she's obviously going to wake up" the man replied and closed his eyes.
The girl they found just a few hours ago still lay unconsciously in spite of all the damp cloths Gilraen placed on her forehead. This whole adventure was getting more and more crazy. Like it or not, they were dead. For Valar knows how many years, and Gandalf now turns up to invite them on an adventure, the exact word he used, back on Middle Earth, back in life. And the first thing they find is half a dozen southrons with an abducted girl. The precise things Gilraen did not miss from life: war, abduction, enemies, blood, and death.
"Where do you think Gandalf is waiting for us?" her husband asked.
"I have no idea, do I?" Gilraen shrugged. "He was your friend; you should know what's on his mind. He said go north, so we keep going north and—"
The girl finally stirred. She gave a soft moan and opened her eyes looking around terrified. Obviously two flesh-solid ghosts back from the dead in the middle of nowhere inside a dirty tent she was held captive in, are not the most promising prospect.
"Where am I? Who are you?" she mumbled, her blue eyes wide with confusion.
"Don't worry, dearest, you are safe" Gilraen soothed her. "They won't hurt you again."
"They are dead" Arathorn added as explanation. "Are you feeling well?"
"I'm… I'm just a little…" she pushed herself up and tugged away the golden locks falling over her pretty face. "My hands ache."
"Show me, maybe we can do something" Gilraen smiled at her. The girl's wrists were red and bruised from the rough ropes bounding them together. Apart from that and a purplish mark of a hard palm on her cheek bone, she looked unharmed.
"What's your name?" Arathorn asked the girl whose wariness didn't seem to have subsided.
"Sybille" she said after a moment of hesitation. "Who are you?"
"We are…" Gilraen looked at her husband. What were they going to say? Lord and Lady of the Dunedain back from the dead? There was no point in scaring the girl any further…
"Traders" Arathorn finished. "We are travelling north. Are you Gondorian, Sybille?"
"Yes" she nodded and took the water Gilraen offered her. "Thank you, madam"
Gilraen had to laugh at that. Very courteous from a girl just saved from kidnap.
"And you are also highborn?" Arathorn went on in a casual tone, but the girl became distrusting again at once. "Dirty and torn, it may be, but your dress is still all satin and silk."
"Yes" she admitted. "Where are we?"
"Near the river Sirith" Gilraen's husband replied eying the girl curiously whose face lit up in an instant.
"Is somebody looking for you, dear?" Gilraen asked her, interrupting the one question – one answer game she was playing with Arathorn. Highborn Gondorian maidens don't just go missing without anybody noticing it. "How far do you live from here?"
"Not so far" Sybille replied. And after a moment of inner debate went on. "In the capital. And yes, my brother probably, or someone…"
"I'm sure they'll find you soon" Arathorn gave her a reassuring smile. "Until then we'd be happy to share your company and you'd be safe from abductors sharing ours."
"Yes. Thank you, sir, you are very kind. That'd be very welcome" the girl pulled herself together and gave a smile to them.
"Well then, Sybille, are you hungry? I'm afraid we can't offer much, but better than nothing" Gilraen gave a playful grimace and placed in front of Sybille some cheese and bread they found in the southrons' wagon.
"Thank you so much" she emphasized on the word 'so' and took a bite from the bread.
After Sybille ate, Gilraen set down to put some bandages, washed stripes of clothes they also found in the southrons' wagon to be exact, on the girl's bruised wrists and ankles.
"So you said you were traders" the girl blinked at her with smiling curious eyes. "What do you trade with? Why did you come so far south to trade?"
"Oh…well…" Gilraen had no idea what to say to Sybille. The girl seemed more than harmless, besides she was only being friendly to chat her up. "You know we trade with many various things. And you, Sybille, tell me how old are you?" Gilraen did her best to change the topic as quickly as possible without drawing the girl's suspicion.
"Almost seventeen" she replied proudly.
"Ah, the finest age" Gilraen sighed. "I can't imagine what those men wanted from such a kind and innocent girl"
"Well… probably ransom" Sybille seemed as uncomfortable with the reasons of her abduction as Gilraen was when it came to their 'life' as 'traders'.
"From your parents?" she asked the girl anyways.
"Yes… apparently" Sybille nodded.
"Unfortunately it's a custom to harass children of wealthy, highborn families to ransom money from the parents…" Gilraen mused. At least it wasn't orcs who caught the girl, otherwise they wouldn't have cared for ransom; blood would have served them well enough. "You were still lucky you know… worse abductors could have taken you."
"I was lucky that you found me before they took me any further from my home" Sybille replied clearly meaning her words.
Gilraen placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. Sybille reminded her a little of the daughter or sister she never had. "I'm sure your brother will find you soon, dear. Rest now."
For the rest of the afternoon Sybille dozed in the tent while Gilraen discussed potential places with Arathorn where Gandalf might be waiting for them to take them to their son. It was around nightfall that their words were interrupted by the sound of pounding hooves. Her husband stood up to get a better view of the approaching party.
"There are about twenty horses. Soldiers, under the Gondorian banner. Is this some patrol?" Arathorn murmured and walked ahead to meet the riders, Gilraen at his heels. She had no idea what was going on, but twenty armed men gave her a heavy feeling of unease, no matter what sort of banner they carried. The only rider Gilraen would have been happy to see was the girl, Sybille's brother. A young lord was leading the party easing his stallion into a trot as he saw Gilraen and Arathorn approach.
"Who are you and what business do you have in the middle of Gondor?" he demanded as he reached Arathorn yanking the reins to stop his horse. Gilraen thought he had to be some captain, by the looks and number of his men, and his attire also spoke of high birth. His tone made one thing clear: that he was not somebody advisable to defy.
"We are traders" Arathorn lied for the second time that day.
"With an empty wagon, aye?" He couldn't be older than mid-twenties, Gilraen thought, as the man rode around the southron's wagon.
Arathorn gave an apologetic shrug to the comment.
"And who do you hope to trade with by the riverbank? Fish? Where are you headed?"
"We are headed north, my lord." Her husband said the words 'my lord' sounding queer on his lips. She didn't remember Arathorn addressing anybody 'lord' apart from Lord Elrond of Rivendell.
"Not south, you are sure? To give spy reports to Harad, perchance?" he offered with a wary glimpse around their small camp.
"We don't spy for Haradrims, we slay them" Arathorn was winning, not surprisingly.
"Not for an empty wagon, I trust?" he demanded frowning. "What southrons did you kill and to what ends?"
"A dozen armed men disguised as merchants. To free their captive."
"A captive?" the leader lord's companion blurted. He was even younger than the other, though very much similar in attire and appearance.
"What captive?" the other barked at them too, all nerves on edge to hear the answer.
"A girl?" the younger one asked dismounting his horse.
"Yes" Gilraen nodded quickly her mouth curving into a smile, though this wasn't exactly the way she pictured Sybille's brother coming to rescue her. "With blonde hair and blue—"
"Where is she now?" the youth yelled cutting her across.
Before either of them could reply a thin voice answered him. Sybille woke up.
"Florian?" she sounded overwhelmed with joy and relief, as though she could hardly believe her ears and eyes.
"Sybille!" the youth cried out hurrying off.
Sybille stepped out of the tent and ran into his embrace.
"Heavens, what happened to you? I was mad with worry when we couldn't find you. Dearest, are you unharmed? What happened to you?"
"I don't know, all I remember is someone grabbed me and I woke chained and gagged and it was so awful and I couldn't escape and I'm so happy you found me! I so hoped someone would look and find me…"
"Half the city's been looking for you from the moment you went missing, gracious lady" The leader of the soldiers dismounted as well and walked up to Sybille and the youth called Florian.
"Lord Barahin, the greatest pleasure to see you!" she said still overwhelmed.
"The greater pleasure to see you, Sybille. I feared we would never find you."
"But we found you and now we're taking you home right now and the healers will tend you and you'll forget all these horrors by next week, I promise you, darling Sybille." The young man stroked her cheeks and planted a light kiss on her lips.
Gilraen glanced at her husband. The same thought she had in mind was written over his face too. That was not exactly brotherly love.
"So eventually it wasn't your brother looking for you" Arathorn said humming.
"He rode east with twenty men" Florian explained to Sybille.
"Send the hawks" the leader named Barahin barked at one of the soldiers. "We'll ride for Minas Tirith at once."
"The sun just set" Arathorn raised an eyebrow.
"We'll light torches" came the unfriendly reply as the man mounted his horse eyes sweeping over their camp warily.
"Wait, shouldn't we give them some reward?" Florian looked up at his companion.
Gilraen gave a half amused half bewildered look to her husband. Well, maybe traders would welcome reward after saving a high born maiden.
"Apparently, they weren't very eager to tell us about her. Besides, they seem to have no idea who she is and I do not intend to change that."
"Forgive the Lord Barahin for mistrusting you, please. I'd be most happy if you visited me once you come to the city. So I could repay your kindness" Sybille told them.
"Thank you, my lady, mayhaps we'll meet again." Arathorn inclined his head.
"Take care of yourself" Gilraen smiled at her as Florian helped her onto his horse.
"Farewell!" she waved at them as the youth mounted behind her. He inclined his head and they rode off with Lord Barahin and his men.
Gilraen turned to Arathorn with a bittersweet feeling. Having Sybille with them, someone to take care of just for a day refreshed all her mortal maternal instincts. She so longed to see Aragorn.
"She was a darling child…" Gilraen sighed.
"A child? How old was she, sixteen? You saw that boy kissing her" Arathorn chuckled.
"Fine, then a young lady" Gilraen shook her head playfully. "So what about us, my dear? What do we do now?"
"Go north… and inquire…" Arathorn trailed off with a helpless shrug.
Well that was it for now. Introduction Part 1 is coming up tomorrow, check it out if you are interested :)
Got an anonymus review asking what timeline this is (I can't answer an anonymus review, that's why I'm writing here). This is after Aragorn is King, since even the summary speaks of Gondor's royal family. And I say in the very first 10 sentences that Gandalf brought back Gilraen and Arathorn from death for an adventure, that is to meet Aragorn who fulfilled his fate and became king, so they can be proud and all. And I thought I also made it quite clear that Gandalf also took them BACK to death at the end of Introduction. I just wanted someone completely outsider to tell Prologue, Introduction and Epilogue and I like Arathorn and Gilraen, that's why Gandalf brought them back for a few days.